


i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)

by sarahbacou



Series: a bit of a rough patch: the thorbruce backstory of infinity war. [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Character Study, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Suicide Attempt, fuck odin, fuck thanos, hurt!Thor, i fix what the russos broke, loki and thor fix their relationship, loki is an overall dick but we love him, steve is a king and no one can tell me otherwise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 11:37:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14933510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahbacou/pseuds/sarahbacou
Summary: here is the deepest secret nobody knows(here is the root of the root and the bud of the budand the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which growshigher than soul can hope or mind can hide)and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart- e.e cummingsaka wherein i fix about 90% of thor's problems that the russos managed to fuck up in less than three hours.





	i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)

**Author's Note:**

> first of all, there is a suicide attempt and depression running rampant throughout this entire story. just keep that in mind. second of all, yes i have seen endgame and yes i plan on fixing that utter cocksuckery as well don't you worry. third of all, i love thor. i love everyone else, but i love thor the most, and i wanted him to have a healing journey.
> 
> edited on 4/28/19 for basic revision.

Thor often wondered what death felt like. He wondered if it was as painful as it looked, or if the stories of his homeworld were true; that death was such an ornate and beautiful end to one part of a story, and a true warrior, one with a heart of pure gold and good intentions, never felt any real pain as they traveled to Valhalla. Thor wondered if his body would burn on the inside as if the lightning turned against him. He wondered if death would feel like a heavy blanket being pulled over his body, starting with his toes, ending with his blue eyes. Thor hoped that death was peaceful for the ones who perished, because here, amongst the ashes of his comrades and the trees of Wakanda, death was anything but.

He watched everyone he had ever consider a friend, a member of his wayward family, have their blood and their bones transfused into ash and dust. He could hear a long-haired man’s soft, slightly confused ‘Steve?’ escape his burst, cracked lips, before a wash of grey dissolved him altogether. More and more people just ceased to exist, and Thor couldn’t help any of them. He couldn’t grab Groot or Wanda and hold them to his chest, try to press the molecules together to make them a solid person again. He didn’t even try. He just… stood there, Stormbreaker held loosely in his hand, humming with the ancient, mythical energy he had gotten so used to. The ax was eager to continue to try its new power, to destroy, to protect. But still, Thor stood. He heard, after what felt like millenniums, screams of anguish. Thor looked over and saw Rabbit sitting on a stump, his tiny paws curled into fists, shaking with a fury that Thor hadn’t seen in centuries. Yet he wasn’t scared. He was more numb than anything. All emotions had drained themselves from his once kingly body, seeping out into the spongy jungle floor below him for the lush, green plants to absorb. Rabbit kept screaming, tears leaking out from his beady eyes. Thor stood there.

Deep down, Thor knew that an actual, true, righteous king, one who was so unlike Odin in every single regard, would fight whatever had grasped hold of his thousand-year-old heart and _force his feet to move_. A good king would put aside his own feelings, or lack thereof, and help people in need, Asgardian or not. But he wasn’t a good king. At least, he didn’t feel like one anymore. Maybe at one point, aboard his ship, before Thanos came, maybe at that point Thor was a good king, probably even a great one. But Thanos had stripped away everything Thor had. His brother. His people. His kingliness and his honor and his happiness, leaving Thor with nothing, so nothing he became.

A tall black woman, clad in gold rings and red armor, stumbled through the trees. She reminded Thor of Sif, because even in her clear sorrow of losing someone she loved, this warrior woman still carried herself with high esteem, though her wavering feet caught on the vines and roots. Thor stood and watched as Steve caught her, mumbling something into her shaking form. He watched as he rubbed the woman’s back, easing her onto the jungle floor. Steve stood up after a couple more seconds, and Thor did a double take when he met Steve’s eyes.

They were tired. Steve’s eyes were radiating extreme exhaustion, yet his body moved with such force, such indignation to do what needed to be done, that Thor mentally slapped himself. That should be him, That should be Thor, the God of Thunder, the Heir of the Nine Realms, helping the survivors of war. But instead it was a lowly boy from Brooklyn, with no powers to match anything outside of Earth’s atmosphere, doing a King’s job, patching up what had holes, brushing off what was dirty, bringing light where there was darkness.

Steve moved from one person to another, helping them to sit on a wayward log or rock, stroking their hair or putting his hand on their back. Natasha came into the clearing, pale and bloody, but alive. At any rate, Thor was thankful for another familiar face.

“What happened?” She asked, and her voice did not quaver.

“Thanos,” Thor heard Steve answer, his voice becoming quieter and less real.

“Hey,” Another voice came up from behind him. “Thor, buddy, you need to sit down. Your legs are shaking. It looks like you’re about to faint.” Thor felt his arm being gently grabbed, and he was lowered onto the ground. He kept his eyes stared straight ahead, watching his vision blur and blacken and return. A man - Banner? - Banner stepped into his field of view. He looked concerned and… dirty? Was that dirt on Banner’s forehead?

“Is he okay?” Steve? Was that Steve? Or was that Natasha?

“I think he’s going into shock,” Bruce called out, though Thor noticed he never took his eyes off him. “Okay, Thor. Try and stay awake, okay? I know it’s hard. Just look at me and focus on breathing. Steve- Steve! Help me lay him down!” Hands were around and on him, and Thor couldn’t struggle. He could only comply with the way they were moving him. Soon, his spotty vision sported the green trees and the blue sky, and his legs were raised up by Banner. Thor wasn’t sure if they were talking about him or to him, but a chorus of voices surrounded him, and Thor was too tired to decipher anything. The colors above him morphed and muted into purple and grey and white and he blinked a couple of times, but it didn’t help much.

Thor tried to focus on his breathing as Banner had said, but it seemed as though the humid, steamy, jungle air had bypassed his lungs altogether and set aflame the inside of his stomach, growing an expansive number of unknown flora in his intestines. Soon, he felt the roots of the trees inside him try to expel themselves, and they did so successfully, turning themselves into liquid by the time they reached his mouth, and Thor retched on his chest, apparently alarming Banner.

What little he could hear and what little he could see were now clouded completely by black, and somewhere inside him, Loki and his homeworld called, and Thor, ever wanting to make amends with his brother since Thanos had killed him, beckoned to the call and thrust himself into the darkness forevermore.

  
***

Thor had left Wakanda’s luscious jungle and swam through the thick inky darkness for what seemed like an eternity. He could hear far off giggles of his distant childhood, and the boisterous voices of his deceased friends from Asgard. There were colors shining past him miles away from where he was trudging. Eventually, Thor reached solid ground. It was grey and ashy, and he truly wondered if the floor was made up of his dead friends. He almost threw up again just thinking about it. To think he was stepping on Groot made his stomach flip wildly.

“Do not fear, Brother,” Loki’s enchanting drawl sounded up ahead. Thor could see him now, not just feel his presence and hear his voice. Loki was turned away from him, hands clasped behind his back. His voice soothed Thor’s fears. “This is just the shell of what was once an ancient planet, deceased before you or I knew life.”

“Loki…” Thor whispered, falling on his knees and bowing his head. Even here, in a dream state, he couldn’t summon enough strength to form words.

“We don’t have much time to talk, but then, when have we ever?” When Thor gazed up at Loki again, his brother had turned to face him. He was dressed in the same outfit he was in when he died, and big, broad bruises adorned his neck like a horrible necklace, the purple skin a dull jewel against the stark paleness of his neck.

“I-“

“Quiet,” Loki commanded, and Thor couldn’t deny that his baby brother had the rumblings of a Highborn King inside of him, unlike himself. “You’re in shock. You’re dying from that suicide mission to get a weapon. An _ax_ of all things.” Loki sighed, disappointment flashing in his green eyes. His voice, though still authoritative, held a note of poison in it. “Really, Brother. An _ax_? Did Sakaar teach you _nothing_? You don’t need a weapon. You _are_ a weapon.”

“I couldn’t stop Thanos without one…” Thor reasoned softly, voice stripped of all authority.

“You didn’t try! You went to a dead star with two lowly experiments and nearly killed yourself because you were too weak to even see what you were even capable of!” Loki’s voice boomed across the vastness of the dead planet, shaking the earth beneath Thor’s knees and toes.

“Loki…”

“Stormbreaker may have healed you enough to go and help your precious Avengers, but it failed to heal you extensively. Your lungs bled, are _still bleeding_ , and your body couldn’t handle it. Banner is tending to you now. Let’s see if you can make it on your own, or if you need a weapon to help you survive this, too.”

Thor stayed quiet, bowing his head once. Loki was right, in every way, and there was no point in trying to rebuff what Thor had known all along. The air was stagnant between the two brothers, and Thor could feel the anger radiating from Loki.

“Also, hitting Thanos in the chest? Are you serious, Thor? Did Father and Heimdall teach you nothing? You always aim for the head! Your brainlessness cost half of the universe!”

“I just…”

“You just _what_?” Loki sneered, and Thor flinched, turned his downward facing head away.

“I wanted Thanos to feel the same pain you felt.”

“Gods, you’re a child! Thanos wasn’t some bully from Asgard! He was hell-bent on _killing_! Mass murder! If I was a casualty in what would have been a win for my Brother, I gladly would have met my fate with dignity! Instead, my death means _nothing_! I will rest uneasy until the end of time because of you!”

“Brother… Please, forgive me. I only did what I thought was best.” Thor’s voice was barely a whisper, and he felt Loki’s long, skinny, death-cold fingers grasp his chin and force his head up so they locked eyes.

Loki’s eyes were blazing fires of emerald, boring into Thor’s very being. “Oh, yes, I agree, you did do what you thought was best. For _you_. I don’t forgive imbeciles, even if that imbecile is my older Brother.”

“Loki-“

“Get out of my sight.” Loki let of Thor and stomped away. “I had such high hopes for you, Brother. For us.”

Then, the world faded away, just like all of Thor’s friends had, and he wondered if Steve had felt this hopeless when the man with the metal arm turned into grey ash.

  
***

The first thing Thor noticed without opening his eyes was that he definitely was not on the jungle floor anymore. The uncomfortable sticks poking into his shoulder blades and spine had disappeared and were replaced with a mattress and a couple of pillows. He felt needles in his arm, the skin around them was slightly itchy.

Sunlight kissed his forehead like a mother’s warm, caressing hand, and Thor tried to shift his body towards it, trying to pretend he was in Asgard, safe and protected and innocent, where Loki was still alive and still loved him and always forgave him. However, a gentle hand slowly guided him back to his original position.

“Whoa, there, big guy. Take it easy. Let’s not mess up the IV’s in your arm, okay?” The man’s voice was soft and kind.

“Banner?” Thor rasped, and realized how thirsty he was. He blinked open his eyes at a snail’s pace, and when the fuzziness of sleep had deteriorated from his sight, he saw his old friend. Banner stood beside Thor’s bed his hands stowed in a lab coat, in clothes that were slightly too big on him and were slightly rumpled and wrinkled, which indicated to Thor that Banner hadn’t slept in a long while.

His friend looked down and smiled softly at him. “How’re you feeling? You’ve been asleep for about four days now, fighting off a nasty bout of shock and internal bleeding. But I’ve stopped it, though you did give us quite a scare in Wakanda.”

Thor licked his lips and closed his eyes for five seconds before opening them again. “Fine. ‘m fine.” He lied, turning his head away towards the window on the opposite side of the room. He set his mouth in a straight line as he saw the orange sun hanging low in the sky. It was clear they were back In New York, indicated by the horizon of industrial skyscrapers. The scene reminded Thor of his view from his room back on Asgard, where the golden city caught the twin suns and caused the entire planet to coruscate like a great metallic kaleidoscope. It hurt Thor to know he’d never see that sight again, and New York could never rival it because it was too dirty and too silver and too concrete and not enough home. “Did you find my people?”

“Not yet. We’re still looking. You’d think it’d be easier with half the Government gone to use some of its otherwise locked up technology, but you’d be wrong.”

Banner’s answer left a pit in Thor’s stomach. He didn’t need reminding that because of his foolishness half of the universe was dead. He didn’t want to hear that they hadn’t located the only thing that would make his life somewhat livable again. He didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that in every regard, Loki was right. Thor had failed. Utterly, irrevocably, in all respects, failed.

“We are trying, Thor, and we’re going to keep trying. I need you to understand that. I’m certainly not going to give up the search for your people.”

“Okay,” Thor swallowed down his anxiety and his fear of never seeing his people again. It didn’t matter if they found them or didn’t at this point. Even if Thor reunited with the rest of the Asgardians, he doubted it would truly change his mindset. If they did find them, wonderful, then Thor would have a purpose. Not happiness, not really, but he would have a reason to stick around and not kill himself.

He heard Banner sigh and place a hand on his shoulder again. “Get some rest. You’re pretty much in the clear, but I want you to take it easy for the next couple of days.”

Thor hummed in response, not caring enough to absorb Banner’s words. He didn’t want to go anywhere, anyways. He didn’t even want to move his limbs. All Thor desired to do was watch the golden rays bathe the city in its heavenly light.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Thor.” He felt Banner squeeze his forearm, and added, “I’m glad you’re here,” as an afterthought before stepping out of Thor’s room, closing the door behind him.

Thor kept looking out on the sky, watched as the sun sank lower and lower below the darkened buildings. He was not at all surprised when the lights of the city turned on and narrowly shined through the window. Barely half of the windows were lit with yellow, with one building, in particular, showing only pitch blackness. Thor’s eyes widened in horror, realizing that that was his doing. If houses were empty, if beds were collecting dust, that was all Thor’s fault, because Loki was right, Thor was only doing what he thought was best for him, not what was best for families and homes and races. If there were children crying because their parents had turned into dust while they were watching a movie, that was Thor’s fault, because he aimed for the chest instead of the head.

 _If Loki had lived and I had died_ , Thor thought, _the entire universe might have been saved._ Loki, though ever tricky and manipulative, would have done the right thing. He had been more of a King than Thor could ever hope to be. Loki had known what had to be done to make the surplus of the population survive and undeniably happy. Loki had understood that there were sacrifices that had to be made for the greater good, and he had understood how to use his powers, how to control with such grandiose and finesse that Thor would always be decades behind him. He watched as night bled into his room, into his bones, and knew that the sun would not rise again, at least, not without Loki.

Loki was always his other half, the heads to his tails, the yin to his yang. He was stronger in brains and diplomacy whereas Thor excelled in brute strength and military prowess. Loki was born to be King; Thor had the title thrust upon him.

The later it got, the more restless Thor became. Sleep evaded him, but even if it hadn’t, Thor didn’t want to sleep anyways. He didn’t want to go back to that ashen planet and feel Loki’s inherent rage. He didn’t want his brother telling him about all the ways he had failed, because Thor already knew. Thor already knew he messed up when he went on that side quest. Thor already knew he failed the entire universe when he struck Thanos in the chest and not the head. It was bad enough he had to spend his waking hours stuck in an endless loop of self-loathing, he didn’t want his dreams to haunt and plague him too.

Thor laid in his bed for hours, flip-flopping between kicking all the covers off and pulling them taut over his body. He didn’t know what emotions he felt. Maybe all of them at once or none at all. He tried to control his breathing so his heartbeat would slow down because he didn’t want Banner to be alerted. He didn’t want anyone to know he was suffering. Everybody else was suffering because of Thor’s selfishness, he didn’t want to take away what was so rightfully theirs. Thor deserved every hurt that came to him and nothing less. He laid there and stared at the half-lit cityscape, feeling the guilt eating away at his heart and his sanity. Eventually, his breathing did slow, and he fell into a sort of trance where his eyes remained open but his mind was clearly vacant. He didn’t notice a dry patch form on his tongue or a headache form due to dehydration, nor did he notice that at some point the sun had fully risen, nor that Banner had come into his room again.

“Did you sleep at all?” Banner asked, looking at Thor’s IV bags and his vital signs. Clearly Banner hadn’t followed the advice he had given Thor; there were dark purple bags under his eyes, and his hair clearly had been hurriedly pushed out of the way in what Thor could only assume was a semblance of self-care. He also was wearing the same clothes as from the previous night.

“Yes,” Thor lied once more and felt immortal shame when Banner gave him a bright smile, just like the one Loki had given him on the Asgard ship. He didn’t deserve that in his life anymore, or maybe he never did.

“That’s great! Well, your vitals have been stable for over twenty-four hours, so I’m satisfied you’re well enough to get out of bed. Let’s get these IV’s our of you and go down to the kitchen. I know everyone is excited to see the God of Thunder up and about.”

“Yeah,” Said Thor, but there was a lack of emotion in his voice, and it didn’t surprise him in the slightest. “I’m sure they are.”

Banner unhooked the needles from his arms and turned off the medical machines that had monitored his heartbeat, and Thor sat up, swinging his legs so they landed on the floor. He noticed that he was wearing a hospital gown instead of his Asgardian armor. Thor felt naked without it as if it had been some sort of security blanket. Yet he realized that the armor was a symbol of strength, of protection, and Thor could no longer protect nor don the air of strength. The armor he had worn would not fit the man he had become. He looked at Banner, who had finished putting a band-aid over one of the needle marks.

“I can get you some regular Earth clothes if you want.”

“Okay.”

  
***

It was mid-morning when Thor made his appearance to the other survivors of Thanos’ terror. They were all in the kitchen, which was smaller than Thor had remembered. Of course, his team had been smaller the last time he’d allied with the Avengers. He supposed if Thanos hadn’t snapped his fingers, if Thor hadn’t royally messed up in every single way possible, the kitchen would be filled from corner to corner, with riotous and rowdy laughter tumbling over the walls and counters. As it was, he expected the scene set before him.

The table housed Natasha, Steve, and Tony, and with Banner behind Thor, a steady hand on the small of his back, there were only two people Thor didn’t know. A bald purple and blue alien woman leaned on the corner of a wall the furthest away from him a murderous scowl on her face that reminded Thor of Loki in every way, and a black, middle-aged man who sat on the counter, frowning into a cup of coffee. Everyone was silent, and the room was filled with a sorrow that rumbled deep into Thor’s very being. He had caused this. He had caused this melancholic scene before them. Even though the kitchen was full, it felt so incredibly empty, and that was Thor’s fault. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it would not go away, and his stomach turned as he continued to look at all of his comrades.

Steve was the first one to notice his entrance and stood up, the chair scraping against the linoleum floor. “Thor,” He breathed, breaking the suffocating silence, and strode over to him, pulling Thor into a back breaking hug. “Thank God. I was so worried you weren’t going to make it. I didn’t want to lose another friend.”

Loki’s words echoed throughout his mind again: _Let’s see if you can make it on your own, or if you need a weapon to help you survive this, too._ Thor honestly wondered if he was still trying to heal and survive.

Thor wrapped his arms around Steve’s torso loosely, more of a reflex than anything. “Yeah. Me too.” They broke apart soon after, though Steve still kept his hand firmly clasped on the back of Thor’s neck like he was afraid the God of Thunder would dissolve under his touch.

If only.

“Are you hungry, Thor?” Banner asked, guiding him more into the kitchen. “None of us have really ventured out to the grocery store yet. We don’t really know how the public perceives us yet, but we’ve got coffee and dry cereal.”

 _The public probably hates me. Perceives me as a monster. I’m the one who killed half the universe. It’s okay. Loki hates me. I hate me too._ Thor thought, and apparently, he took too long to answer, because Banner and Steve were looking at him like he hadn’t answered in hours.

“W-Water.” Thor’s voice quavered through the room. Though a pampered prince and used to being waited on hand and foot, there was something quite unsettling to Thor about his friends wondering after him, wanting to know if he was okay, wanting to know if he needed anything like food or drink. He watched Steve and Banner share a concerned look, but they didn’t say anything. Steve sat Thor down in his spot at the circular table, and Banner brought him a cup of water.

Thor’s eyes rested on Tony first, and if Thor thought he looked bad, Tony looked about ten million times worse. His hair was greasy, and his knuckles were a ghostly white against the backdrop of his black coffee mug. Thor noticed that Tony’s leg was shaking rapidly under baggy pants. “Stark?” Thor mused.

It was that moment that Tony looked up, and Thor felt his heart shatter for the millionth time that day. Tony Stark had once held an air of hubris and altruism, complete with a well-tailored face and expensive suits or t-shirts to boot. Thor was used to seeing a smile in Tony’s eyes even if his mouth didn’t quite portray his joy in humanity. But the man before Thor…. The man before Thor wasn’t Tony Stark. The man who sat before him, clinging to his cup of coffee like it was the only thing keeping him together, wearing clothes that didn’t show off his physique or his wealth, was a shell of Tony that Thor didn’t want to get to know.

Tony’s face had finally shown all the hardship of the past ten years, and it was a miracle and a mystery to Thor that he wasn’t already crying on the kitchen table. But heroes like Tony were strong and hid their emotions behind rose-colored glasses. They did not let the populous see what tore them up inside. Even if Tony’s tinted shades were shattering, he would not break completely. Thor wished he could say the same. His glasses had shattered with his home planet. His glasses shattered with the death of his brother. He was no hero.

Natasha put a hand on Tony’s arm, softly stroking his bicep, a sad look on her face as Tony moved his brown eyes from Thor to her. His gaze was still so far away, Thor wondered if he wasn’t stuck somewhere else in his mind. It was clear Natasha knew what Tony was trying to convey, but the translation was lost on Thor.

“It’s okay, Tony,” She said softly. “I’m sure Peter is in a better place.”

Thor felt the worst pain imaginable. Worse than all the times Loki had stabbed him combined. Worse than fighting the Chituari. Worse than when Hela ripped his eye right out his socket. At Natasha’s reminder, some semblance of reality snapped Tony back to the present. He looked tired as if he had aged forty years.

“Yeah…” Stark murmured quietly. Pulling his cup of water close to his chest, Thor’s eyes flicked from one person to another.

“Who is Peter?”

“He’s my… He’s my… my…” Tony tried to speak, but Thor could literally see the billionaire’s heart shatter into more pieces than he could count, and knew there was no way in all Nine Realms, that Tony was going to be able to finish his sentence. Tears formed in Tony’s eyes, and he bit his lip as he placed his head in his arms.

“Peter was Tony’s protegė. He was a fifteen-year-old boy who went to help Tony and some other heroes try to stop Thanos on the moon, Titan.” The middle-aged black man spoke out, his voice clear against the silent group. “He turned into ash. Of all seven of the heroes on Titan, only Tony, and Nebula,” He pointed a finger at the scowling blue and purple woman in the corner, “survived.”

The sour pit that Thor felt in his stomach erupted into a bush of venom. He had killed a boy. He had essentially taken Tony Stark’s heart out of his chest, shoved it into his arms, and scorched it until nothing but soot and ash remained. It was his fault that Tony was broken. It was his fault that Tony couldn’t differentiate different voices when someone rang out the name ‘Stark’, that he could only hear the same doe-eyed boy named Peter call out for him. Thor had an innocent fifteen-year old’s blood on his hands, and he looked at them. Suddenly, they were painted red with gore, sticky and warm, and Thor breathed heavily, trying not to panic. He didn’t deserve to panic. He had caused this.

_Weak._

_Weak._

_Utterly weak._

_You killed this innocent boy._

_You_ never should _have lived._

Loki’s torturous voice came to the forefront of Thor’s mind, laughing at him and taunting him. Thor took it. Loki was right. He should have died on that ship. He should never have survived Thanos’ attack. It was all his fault. Peter was dead because of his arrogance. Peter was dead because Thor had failed everyone with his selfishness.

“Thor? Thor. Buddy, hey, breathe.” Steve’s voice came back into Thor’s ears, taking away the cold, bloody mindset he had trapped himself in. It took a while and a lot of coaxing, but eventually, Thor’s vision cleared and his breathing became more stable.

“I’m sorry.” The words that spilled out of his mouth felt clumsy and foreign, the breaths that were coming out of his mouth were still a little shaky.

“What are you sorry for?” A new voice spoke up, and Thor noted it was from Nebula. Truly, she was an alien form of Loki come to taunt him. Her black beetle eyes shone in the shadows she resided in, just as Loki’s had been prone to do. Her posture was that of high order and resilience, and Thor shuddered at the memory of Loki standing the exact same way in his dream. “Did you kill the Spider-boy? Were you the man who killed half the universe? If so, groveling won’t get you anywhere. Sniveling in front of your victims won’t earn you any pity points. It’s the same thing even if you didn’t.”

“Nebula!” Banner cried out. “Stop that! Don’t you ever talk to Thor that way. Don’t you talk to any of us that way. Do you understand? Learn your place within our world and be grateful we haven’t blown you to smithereens as Tony should have done two days ago.”

Thor heard machines click and whirl together as Nebula ground her jaw and shrugged her shoulders. “The universe has no time for apologies or crybabies. Besides, the Man of Iron would not be here without me. I am an asset to your cause.”

“No-“ Banner began again, and Thor could see the makings of anger in his friend’s eyes, so he stood up, and cut him off.

“She’s right, Banner. I can’t cry about it. The universe won’t spare any tears for me. It’ll do nothing.” Though Thor felt anything but commanding, either his voice or his words had been enough to quell any sort of argument within Banner. It should’ve made him feel better, Thor thought, to know he still had some semblance of authority, but it just depressed him.

“Tony?” At the sound of his first name, Tony looked up, and whether or not he was in the mindset of understanding what was happening around him and comprehending the situation at hand, it didn’t matter. “I’m deeply sorry about your Spider-boy. If your character is anything to go by, I’m sure Peter was a fine young man worthy of all the riches of Asgard.”

Thor watched as Tony sat there for a couple of minutes, squinting at the wall, blinking every once in a while, tapping a finger or two against the ceramic texture of his mug. For a while, it seemed like the words hadn’t reached him, as if Tony was still stuck on Titan, and Thor pitied him. He knew what it was like to be stuck in a hellish nightmare of a place, only tormented by your worst fears and biggest failures. He was stuck there now. However, in one fell swoop, Tony let out the breath Thor noticed he’d been holding, chugged his coffee, and stood up. He looked at Thor with some semblance of understanding.

“Thanks,” Tony finally whispered. His voice sounded dead, hollow, and bare. It was so unlike the Tony Stark Thor had known in years past that it sent shivers down his spine. He was afraid of the man before him, the man who wasn’t Tony in any way shape or form because a man without purpose was a man who didn’t care for himself or others. It brought out a primal fear in Thor he hadn’t felt in millennium; a fear of being apathetic, uncaring soldier; a fear of not being considerate towards other people because you had nothing left to lose.

“I’m going down to my lab,” Tony said simply.

After Tony left the kitchen, no one dared speak. Banner opened his mouth a couple of times, Thor knowing the reason more than likely being to ask him if he needed anything other than a glass of water, which Thor hadn’t touched since it was put on the table. Condensation had formed on the clear cup, and he anxiously ran his finger across the surface. Tony had left a bad taste in his mouth and a harrowing feeling in his heart. Thor knew that without Loki beside him, one way or another, whether he wanted it or not, that was the future he had to look forward to, and it shook him to his core.

Without a word of warning to anyone, Thor left the room in a haste, breathing intensifying, thoughts tangling, and worlds blurring.

***

The architecture of Stark tower had never really been branded into Thor’s mind as it should have. Granted, he never spent more than a couple of days at a time here while on Midgard, fighting battles or otherwise, but Thor should have had a good grasp on where things were and where he was going. As it was, after he walked out of the kitchen, he was immediately swarmed with disorientation and confusion. He tried to remember which way his room was, tried to retrace the stops that he and Banner took to get from there to the kitchen, but no matter how hard he tried, Thor couldn’t find his way.

“Bit sad, really,” Loki’s voice came from a shadowed corner. He leaned against the wall, posture exactly the same as Nebula’s had been. He was flipping one of his daggers between his left hand. “My Big Brother can’t find his way to his room.”

Thor turned around, shaking his head. He already felt enough guilt for killing a promising young boy Tony loved. He didn’t need the added guilt of Loki gloating in his face about how much of a disappointment he was. He already knew that. Thor dragged his body down the hallway, fingertips touching the metallic walls as to keep a connection with the real world, not the one he had forged in his own mind.

“Of course, it’s always sad to see someone you’ve looked up to your entire life fail at the most important moment.” Loki had reappeared right ahead of Thor, causing him to stop in his tracks. He couldn’t look Loki in the eye. He couldn’t face all of the negative feelings all at once. Depression and hopelessness did not fit well atop a King’s massive shoulders.

Then again, was Thor really even a King anymore?

“Quiet, Loki.” His whisper became nothing more than an empty plea to the wind.

“I wonder if you’ve ever felt the way I do now, Brother.”

“I warn you-“

“Frustrated… Disgruntled… Irate… The feeling of knowing you will never see your family again. The feeling of darkness leaking into your bones, into your very being.”

“Shut. Up.”

“I wonder if Peter feels the same way? I wonder if he knew you were the one to cause his death. Just as you caused mine.”

 _“SHUT! UP!”_ Thor bellowed, his thunderous voice booming across the hall. In his indignant rage, he had smashed his fist into the wall where Loki had been leaning against, and cracks of lightning bolted from his enclosed fists, echoing flashes of light throughout the punctuated barrier and into the air around him.

“Thor?”

At the sound of his name by someone with a gruffer voice, Thor turned around. There stood Rabbit, small and hunched over. One paw covered an eye, and for a moment, Thor was petrified at the thought of thinking he had electrocuted one of his friends. He had killed so many; he couldn’t harm another living soul.

He reached out towards Rabbit, kneeling down as he did so. “Dear friend, have I-?“ As soon as Thor nearly made contact, with Rabbit, he hissed and pulled away.

“Stay away from me! Don’t touch me!” The venom in Rabbit’s voice could not be denied, and Thor flinched at the sound of something so grating upon his ears.

“I only want to know if I electrocuted you or not.”

Rabbit shook his head, moving his paw to his side. Thor let out a sigh of relief knowing he hadn’t caused any more harm. But as he peered into Rabbit’s face, he wasn’t so sure that was true in the slightest. It was clearly evident that Rabbit had spent the morning alone and isolated from everybody else currently stationed in the building. The patches of skin around Rabbit’s small, beady eyes were red and puffy around the edges, and the fur along his entire body was knotted and unkempt. Thor noticed he looked nearly rabid and supposed that was all his fault. After all, Groot had been like a son to Rabbit, and Thor was nothing if not magnificent at tearing entire families apart.

“Where’s the ax?” Rabbit asked, his rough voice running down Thor’s spine like daggers.

“Stormbreaker? I’m not sure. I haven’t seen it since our battle with Thanos. Why do you need it?”

“Because it’s Groot, you moron.”

Thor looked at Rabbit incredulously, blinking once or twice to just make sure he heard him correctly. He understood quite well that the dead remained dead. He could not, even with all the powers gifted to him by Asgard, reawaken the dead and have them as animated as they once were in life. Thor wished he could. Thor wished he could take Loki’s body from the wreckage of the ship and force sentience and consciousness back into his decaying brain. He wished that his brother was more than just shadowed illusions fabricated to admonish and chastise him to the point of lunacy.

Thor wished Rabbit knew this, too.

“Groot died, sweet Rabbit.”

A steel-sounding laugh issued from Rabbit. His voice was cold and turned Thor’s blood frozen. “You don’t get it, do you? He’s not dead! _Groot isn’t dead!_ I can nurture him back to life just as I did before!”

Thor put a hand on his shoulder. “Your tree friend turned to ash. I’m sorry, but you can’t bring back the dead.” Rabbit brushed off the sentimental contact and rolled his eyes.

“Look, pisshead. The handle to Stormbreaker is Groot’s arm. I can stick in a pot. It’ll grow roots. Roots grow life, and life grows Groot. It’s not that hard to figure out, Einstein, Quill could do it with half his brain missing.”

“Who is Quill?”

“Evidently smarter than you. Never thought that would be coming out of my mouth, but hey, here we are. All my friends are dead and I’m fucking saying Quill is smarter than you, a lumpy sack of potatoes.”

Thor opened and closed his hand, relishing the slight tingle in his fingers from the release of lightning. He looked at Rabbit straight in the eyes once more, saw how full of rage they were, how the brown tones crashed into each other and obliterated the lighter tones like a wonderfully devastating earthquake. Where Tony was all crumbling edges and defeated ruins, throwing caution to the wind as they disappeared forevermore, Rabbit was a violent supernova, an erupting volcano, all terrible and nightmarish in their own rights.

Rabbit’s entire demeanor reminded Thor of a younger version of himself, one with Loki by his side, one where he still had his hammer, one where he hadn’t been banished to Earth. Giving Rabbit Stormbreaker meant fury and harm would surround what little friends of Thor remained, and under no circumstances was Thor to inflict any more damage upon another living soul.

So he sighed and slightly raised up his arms, bowed his head, and closed his eyes. “Alas, sweet Rabbit, I cannot give you Stormbreaker. Anger and arrogance do not pair well with Asgardian weapons. Even if I knew where Stormbreaker was, I wouldn’t give it to you. ”

“Bullshit! You’re selfish! You’re killing me, and now you’ve killed Groot!”

Before Thor could have any true feelings towards Rabbit’s outburst, Banner came crashing down the slope of the hall, panting as he stopped, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

“Banner?” Questioned Thor, and Banner held up one finger, then dug through his lab pocket, quickly producing a foil-wrapped rectangle.

“You didn’t… eat… breakfast…” He wheezed, and the package bobbed up and down with every breath Banner took. Thor stared at him for a while before clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Er, yeah, well… I wasn’t very hungry, I guess. What’re you holding?”

“A pop…tart…” Banner said, swallowed, and continued. “An earth pastry… with fruit filling… and frosting on top… Oh my god, I’m dying…” The trio stood there for a minute while Banner continued to catch his breath. Thor watched as he stood up to full height and catch notice of the large, still somewhat smoking dent in the wall.

“What’s that?”

“My… fist?” Thor offered lamely.

“Oh. Okay. Yeah. Perfectly normal. Tony’s gonna have a field day with that.” Banner said, wiping his finger around the outside of the hole, and then wiping the black soot on his lab coat. “Thunder God leaves hole in fortified steel. That happened all the time back on Asgard, I bet. Any reason why this happened?”

“Nope. Nope. None at all. I tripped.” Thor lied.

“Uh huh… Well, anyways, have the pop tart, please. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and you’re one of my favorite people.” Banner waved the shiny wrapper in front of Thor, who took it without making eye contact. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been off ever since Wakanda.”

“Yeah, everyone’s been off since Wakanda, Doctor Jackass. Probably because Super Lightning Boy here killed half the universe!” Rabbit interjected, causing Thor to outwardly flinch.

“I-” Thor began, trying to tell Rabbit that he was right, that he was the cause for the death of millions of alien races, for the death of his friends, but Rabbit yelled before he could get another word out, and then smacked the pop tart out of Thor’s hand.

“Save it, douche-head. I don’t want to hear it. I watched as you killed my entire family, and when I can get a member of it back, you refuse to help me. Fuck you. And this?” Thor examined his would-have-been-breakfast as Rabbit waved it in front of his face. “This is mine. No food for murderers.” He turned away and stomped down the hall, ripping open the package and wildly devouring the tan food inside of it.

Thor stood there, staring at his empty hand in disbelief. He knew that Loki hated him. He knew that he hated himself, and he knew that no one was wrong when they told him he failed to kill Thanos. But he’d forgotten that the people and aliens he went on different quests and missions with could hate him too. Inwardly, Thor supposed, he suspected it, but that suspect was shoved so far down himself and piled high with his own anxiety that he’d forgotten that reality had even existed. He blinked several times, trying in desperation to stop existing. He wanted to turn into ash and bring back somebody else who was capable of everything that was happening.

Of course, nothing Thor wanted he got.

Somewhere far off, he heard Banner clear his throat and say something, and he felt something slightly warm squeeze his cold shoulder, but Thor was too trapped in his own mind to even consider he should be part of the real world.

It seemed like years before Thor blinked a couple more times and everything came flooding back. His feet ached from standing after days of disuse. There was a slight headache forming and his mouth was becoming exceedingly dry from lack of water. Thor felt grimy and dirty from his head to his toes, but he did nothing to soothe any ailments. He looked around and realized he was alone, with only the fist in the wall to keep him company. Banner had left at a point in time, probably after realizing Thor wouldn’t respond to him. Thor didn’t blame him, he would have left after a while as well.

Thor noticed that the hallway had brightened considerably, and his shadow was directly below him, indicating that midday had finally been cast upon Stark tower. As sluggish as he was, Thor knew he was not going to sleep anytime soon, as it had evaded him for hours on end and seemed relentless in the game of hide n’ seek. Instead, Thor wandered around the tower once more, searching for nothing in particular, yet everything at the same time. He felt his feet fall onto soft, plush carpet, and wondered if he’d killed the maker of it, or perhaps the deliverer, or perhaps the person that installed the carpet. He probably did, and it would be a miracle if they had evaded Thanos’ death day. If there was a shop in New York that was closed because the owner died, Thor blamed himself entirely.

Eventually, Thor came to a large section of the floor he was on that was a complete library. A sort of dome structure stuck out from the rest of the tower, and the top quarter was all windows. The sky a dark grey, spewing misfortune and displeasure among the Terran inhabitants on the ground. Below, the curved walls were adorned with ornate bookshelves, and those were packed to the brim with all the books Earth had to offer. Comfortable looking chairs were formed in a crescent shape around a fireplace, which was lowly lit despite it being nearly June. Thor sighed, for the first time in months, in content. Here, he might find peace. Here, he might find somebody among the cream papers and black words who understood what it was like to lose your father, your people, your home, and your brother all in a week’s time. Here, he might find a protagonist who made grave mistakes but made up for them in the course of two or three books. Here, Thor might find solitude.

As if being pulled by a magnet, Thor was immediately drawn to a section full of Norse Mythology. As stupid and backward as humans might seem to his fellow Asgardians, Thor found them to be charming and endearing. He loved their old customs of giving thanks to the Gods and had a particular fondness towards the Norse women of old. He loved the passion humans had to make myths and immortalize already immortal beings, so their kids could understand and pass down the culture. It nearly brought a smile to his weathered and battered soul.

Thor picked a particularly large, particularly old looking number, with frayed seams and crinkly yellow paper that sported a thick leather cover. He wondered how much Stark paid for this book because it was certainly old. As Thor sat down in a chair by the fireplace, he blew the dust off of the pages and began to read about his fabled homeland.

The words on the page were like an old friend coming back from a long, otherworldly trip. Thor ran his fingers along the first words RAINBOW BRIDGE, his mind instantly connecting it with the Bifrost. He could feel the coldness of space whir through his veins once again, taking him to the worlds he had once been to and galaxies he’d never had the pleasure to pursue. He continued to read, finding himself lost in the paragraphs about his supposed life. Mortals thought that he had been a redhead, with a long, bushy beard that had three succinct braids attached to it, and Thor developed a latent smile, the ends of his mouth curling into an ever so slight upward angle.

One of the only things the ancient storytellers had managed to get nearly right was Loki. Black haired, emerald eyed, manipulative Loki, who only ever thought about himself and was just as dangerous unarmed as he was with his multitude of sharp daggers. Just as quickly as it had come, Thor’s peaceful solitude was whisked away, replaced by a gelid feeling in his veins. Everyone, in time, would forget about Loki. There would be no more stories told of his brother, nor ballads played at large gatherings, nor statues built in his honor. That haunted Thor, knowing that even his friends, Tony and Steve and Banner, they would all die, and with them, so would the memory of Loki. Fast forward three or four decades and Thor would be the only one to truly remember his brother. Though stories may ring true, they only did so much for a dead person. It was up to the people in a deceased person’s life to keep their memory lit, and, well, no one particularly liked Loki enough to even give him a passing thought except for Thor.

Thor devoured more and more pages, his thirst for belonging and wholeness never able to be quenched. It hurt. Everything hurt. All of these people were dead, and it left an aching hole in his heart. These stories of glamor and splendor weren’t closing the gaping wound he’d left himself. On the contrary, it was just ripping it open wider and wider, until Thor was swallowed up by the darkness within himself. Asgard was all wrong. Odin was made to be a hero and Loki a villain. Children were screaming and-

“Help me!” A shrill, terrified voice called out, and Thor whipped his head around as he tried to find the source. Everything around him was burning. Dark columns of ash shot up from the ground, turning the air around him toxic and putrid, and against his better judgement Thor took a deep breath in before immediately choking, tears coming to his eyes as his lungs forced him to suck in the black air, which just renewed the process over and over until he was spasming on the ground.

“Thor! Our King!” Multitudes of voices sounded every which way. Thor saw Asgard in flames. He saw his people perishing by ash and smoke, falling as they emptied their stomach contents on the floor below, souls leaving bodies before their heads smashed against the stone. “Help us! Why are you just lying there?! Why are you failing us, Thor? Are you this weak?!”

He reached out a hand to a little girl, trying to grab her and shield her from the horror surrounding her, but a black high heel crushed the bones in his hand, and Thor was effectively immobile to help anyone as he looked up at his captor.

Hela.

Her black eyes and black hair still sent shocks of unadulterated dread down Thor’s spine. She smiled sadistically as her heel went further into Thor’s skin, unifying his screams with the thousands of others in a chorus of eternal damnation.

“Oh dear. Looks like Baby Brother Thor has lost all his power.” Hela leaned down to Thor’s ear. “What were you the God of again? Failed missions? Blighted dreams?” She tsked, shaking her head when Thor just stared up at her. “That’s what I thought. A King should be able to help his people no matter what, yet you can’t even summon the strength to try and move your fingers. You’re not a God, and you’re certainly not a King. The only thing you are is unfit to rule Asgard.”

Thor coughed harshly, bloody spit flying out of his mouth. “So… are you… Burning our home… Incinerating… our people… What would Father say?” His sister shrugged, stepping off of Thor’s hand. He made to get up, dust off his knees, and start carrying people out of the flames to wherever it was cool, but Hela picked him up like a ragdoll, one hand curled in his shirt collar, and she held him over a sharp cliff. Nothing but blackness remained after the jagged drop.

In a last ditch effort to save himself and his people, Thor grabbed onto Hela’s arm, sending thick cords of lightning throughout her entire body. It had no effect. She cocked her head and pouted.

“Is that all you’ve got? Pity… I was hoping for an actual fight. But you never had any fight in you to begin with.”

“You’re wrong!” Bellowed Thor, increasing the voltage, but Hela shook her head.

“You’ve always been the weakest sibling. That’s why you’re unable to save anybody, even your precious Brother. That’s why everybody blames you, and why shouldn’t they? You are the weakest link in a mighty chain of gods, a disgrace to the royal family, and a blemish on Asgard.”

The blackness spilled over him as Hela let go, and Thor was thrust into the unknown, calling out his Loki’s name as he tumbled through the air. He landed back in the library, his eyes ripping open as he shot up and clawed desperately at his chest. Thor’s lungs weren’t burning, and the screams of his people had ceased to make an appearance in the real world. The book he’d been reading before he’d apparently fallen asleep lay in a heap on the floor, pages bent and folded in an uncaring fashion.

“You were having a nightmare.” A female’s voice proclaimed monotonously. Thor looked to his left. Nebula was sitting in a chair, absentmindedly running her thumb between volumes.

“Yeah. I was.” Thor confirmed.

“You were screaming things in your sleep.”

“Yeah. Probably.”

“Your Brother never screamed during his nightmares.”

“No, probably not.”

“Tell me about Asgard.”

Thor peered at Nebula, squinting his eyes as he situated himself from his position in the chair. His body had slumped into an uncomfortable posture during his fitful sleep, so he pushed himself and sat up straight. Nebula blinked once or twice, and Thor could help but notice how mechanical she seemed. Her movements were nearly robotic, her voice a deep rumble of computer software. He put his cheek on top of his hand, returning her blinks in a lazy fashion as he crossed his legs.

“Anything you want to know you can find in a book.”

“I can’t read English, only speak it.”

“Hm.” Thor raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath. He was protective of Asgard. Once, long ago, he shared stories of his homeworld with the humans of Earth. He was proud, then, arrogant, and though he loved humans and protected them as if they were themselves Asgardian, they could never truly understand the splendor of Asgard itself. But after Hela’s destructive warpath, trampling his culture and his history in her chthonic wake, Thor was unlikely to spread those stories again throughout different alien races. It hurt him to revisit all the happy times he had had, and he wasn’t keen on strangers knowing what they could never understand. That was how he felt about telling Nebula until he realized they were both kindred spirits.

“Tell me about Loki,” He requested.

Nebula shrugged. “There’s not much to tell.”

“Then I guess there’s not much to tell about Asgard.” Thor had played this game many times with Loki. He didn’t trust his brother with important information, and the more Loki desired what Thor knew, the more Thor would dance around the topic until Loki conceded and complied with Thor’s conditions. Nebula was the exact same way.

“What do you want to know about him?”

“Where Thanos found him, what he did to him; if Loki ever wished to take back all he had done. If he ever forgot my love for him.”

Nebula hung her head in gross repugnance and chuckled. “Siblings and their sentiments. Gamora had it too. Always wanted to protect me from our father. It disgusts me.” She met Thor’s eyes. “But very well. We shall exchange information.”

“Excellent,” Thor replied.

For the tales of Asgard and stories of his immortal family, Thor received his fair share for information about his younger brother just as he was promised. After reciting the intricate biology of Yggdrasil and the nine realms to Nebula, Thor learned that Loki had fallen for days on end through space before landing on Thanos’ ship. When he had finished telling the story of Loki shaving all of Lady Sif’s hair off and traveling to the land of the dwarves to get her a wig of gold, Nebula willingly handed over accounts of Loki’s torture. It had the hairs on the back of Thor’s neck stand up straight. Thanos had ripped into his brother’s mind, his powerful, intelligent, magical mind, and tore lacerations into his intricate memories.

For weeks this continued, and every time they ceased cutting into Loki’s mind he became a little less like himself, his green eyes becoming more clouded as he became disconnected from who he truly was. Nebula recounted how Loki couldn’t remember his mother or father or his childhood, only what Thanos thought would suit or aid him in his monstrous pursuits.

“But did he regret his actions?” Thor pressed, voice reaching a note of desperation.

“No, why would he? Loki’s actions were justified. Your father only cared for one child, leaving his youngest to rot and fester in the puss filled wounds of negligence and disapproval. Loki did what he had to do to secure his own happiness, and no one can fault or blame him for that.”

Thor went silent after that, mulling over what Nebula had said, eyes flickering away from her blue and purple skin to the ground. He didn’t know what he expected. Loki had never been the type of person to put others before himself, he never had been. But in his anguish, Thor wanted to believe that Loki’s character had truly changed. Thor wanted to believe that Loki, in his final dying moments, had regretted the attack on New York, had regretted letting go of his hand on the Rainbow Bridge all those years ago. Thor wanted to believe that the Loki who had said ‘I’m here,’ on their spaceship was the Loki that was prominent throughout both their lifetimes. But Nebula’s hard stare told Thor that just wasn’t the case.

“However, I never truly thought that Loki forgot how much you loved him.”

His eyes flitted back to Nebula, watching as her lips formed the sentence that gave him absolute hope.

“No?”

Nebula shook her head. “No matter what Thanos did, he was never able to come close to touching his memories regarding you. Oh, he tried, and for days all we heard throughout the ship were the screams of your Brother. But when Ebony Maw threw Loki back in his cell, his feelings towards you never changed. Everything else did, but not that.”

Thor held his breath. He thought that would make him feel better. Knowing that his brother never truly despised him, just despised the love that was thrust upon him, would have undoubtedly filled Thor with happiness and warmth, and maybe he could have let go of Loki’s poisonous memory so Thor could live the rest of his long life in peace, but Nebula’s story just ruined him even more.

Because of Loki’s love for him, for his brother, he had to through hours of endless torture, of screams, of despair and dolor, all because Thor was nice to him and never gave up on him, all because he provided the love and support Loki needed after Odin so graciously denied him. Thor’s open arms provided Thanos with the daggers he needed to persecute Loki. It made Thor sick to his stomach.

He saw Nebula open her mouth again, and Thor waved a hand, expelling the breath he’d been holding. “No more. Please. I can’t handle it.” As he stood up, Thor put the thick book he’d been reading on the floor beside the chair. “Thank you for telling me all that you did, and for holding your ground in the kitchen. You are a strong woman, Nebula, and remind me so much of Loki.”

“I am nothing like your Brother. I have destroyed worlds, whereas he has clearly only managed to destroy yours.”

“I’m not just talking about that,” Thor responded, putting a large head on her head. “In you, I see him, by the way you read a room before speaking, how you skulk in the shadows like it’s the only comfort you’ve ever known, and how you’re so expertly guarded by your own walls but willing to lay yourself bare for those you care about.”

Nebula glared up at him and sneered. “Do not assume to know anything about what I am. You know nothing about me or my life.”

Thor chuckled softly, the aching wound in his heart closing ever so slightly as Nebula bantered with him. Memories of his brother resurfaced, times when he was nothing but a greasy-haired, lanky, angst-ridden teenager, screaming at Thor and slamming doors in his face. “Often times that’s what he said too. But I understood him better than I understand myself.” Thor walked towards the door but paused when he reached the entryway. “Loki may not regret the choices he made in life, but I regret mine. Every single waking moment I regret what I did and what I failed to do. He might’ve still been here today, had I been a better Brother.” With that, he left Nebula alone as he shuffled down the hallway, stomach grumbling, and headache pounding.

***

By the time Thor left the library, it was nearly dark out. He lingered by a large wall-sized window, leaning against the cold glass with his feet and arms crossed as he witnessed colors bleeding out underneath New York’s buildings. The way that the dusty purple blended in with the burnt orange of the dying day reminded Thor of his mother and father, how two people so seemingly different fit together like puzzle pieces. His heart ached for his parents, longing for them to be right beside him, to give him guidance and reassurance, to bestow royal wisdom upon their ever-lost son. Thor looked beyond the buildings, squinting his eyes to try and see stars. The stars on Earth were vastly different from the ones Thor had studied on Asgard, but even if the nighttime sky was a stranger to him it made him feel a little closer to home.

Both Rocket’s outburst and Nebula’s chilling story about Loki had sent Thor absolutely spiraling, and though he did his best to try and hide it, he wasn’t sure he was succeeding. He felt like old leather; cracked at the edges and crumbling at the seams. No longer could he brush it off, because there were no kingdom disputes to settle, no evil sisters to defeat, and certainly no genocidal titans to stab in the chest, so Thor was stuck wallowing in his darkened memories, drowning in feelings of hopelessness and despair.

“You know, squinting like that is an indicator of old age.” Thor stopped peering at the sky and looked behind him. There stood Steve Rogers. He was in a militant, yet relaxed posture, a concerned smile on his angular face.

“Look who’s talking. You’re nearly a century old, Rogers,” Thor retorted softly, though no fire heated his voice. His eyes returned to the blackening sky outside, and soon he felt Steve’s presence closer to his back.

“You’re old enough to have lived during the black plague. It’s time for some reading glasses.” Steve combated. Thor didn’t reply, and he heard Steve clear his throat in some Midgardian way to indicate awkwardness. “What’re you searching for? Maybe I could help?”

_I’m searching for my brother._

_I’m searching for my mother._

_I’m searching for my father._

_I’m searching for my lost people._

_I’m searching for my own purpose in life._

“I’m searching for the stars,” Thor whispered, worried that if he spoke any louder all his fears and worries and anxieties would come pouring out of his mouth at lightning speed.  

Steve put a hand on Thor’s shoulder. “Ah, good luck! Buck and I used to sit on top of my mom’s roof when we were kids to do the same thing. It was a miracle that we could see the big dipper on extremely clear, windless nights, and that was back in the ’40s. You’re not going to see anything here because of light pollution.”

Thor sighed, standing up straight and shrugging off Steve’s warm hand. “Yeah, I figured that much. That’s all I was looking for.”

“Wait! Wait, Thor. Don’t be so sad. I told you I would help you, didn’t I?” Thor stared at Steve, wide-eyed, filled curiosity. “Tony’s got a planetarium. I’m sure we could hook it up and stargaze from there. What do you think?”

Thor shrugged and nodded, and together he and Steve walked down the hallway and onto the elevator. Steve pressed a button while Thor tapped his feet. “So… Stark’s got a planetarium hidden in the tower?”

“Well, yeah, ‘course he does. Tony’s one of the biggest nerds I’ve ever known. Plus, he’s a billionaire. You can’t honestly tell me he can’t afford a state of the art planetarium.” Steve explained as they shot down numerous floors. They finally came to a stop as Steve got to the end of his sentence.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” Thor mused as he stepped out into the hallway after Steve. He followed him through a serpentine hallway until eventually coming to two big black doors. Thor opened one and let Steve pass through before entering himself.

All Thor could initially see was inky shadow. The air he breathed in was stale and old, and he wondered when, if ever, Stark had used this last. He felt cramped and closeted as if he was being suffocated in a trunk of a car. Steve had left his side, and Thor had to rely on his sense of hearing to know where his friend was. After a few short seconds, dim green lights awoke from a circular wall. There were multiple rows of seating, but Thor couldn’t imagine Tony having enough friends in his lifetime to fill them. He took a seat in a recliner near the edge while he watched Steve toy around with some sort of ball thing in the middle of the room. After some time, something clicked and whirred to life, and Steve joined Thor shortly after in the seat beside him. Thor jumped a little as pragmatic music sounded from surround sound speakers.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention: Tony’s all for theatrics, so he made a little presentation for anybody who came here.” Steve explained, chuckling a little.

“Welcome to Stark Planetarium!” Tony’s voice boomed throughout the room. “Unfortunately, as we simple mortals do not yet acquire the means to show other galaxies, our viewers from other solar systems are stuck looking at Earth’s sky. However, we hope this satisfies any and all stargazing thirsts you might have. Thank you, and enjoy.”

The domed ceiling was now bursting with white dots, and Thor looked up in amazement. It was just as if he were a child back in Asgard and his nursemaids would cast illusions and enchantments on his ceiling to soothe him at night. Stark’s voice was just background noise as Thor watched the projected, slightly blurry stars whir around him. It wasn’t the same as viewing them outside, of course. The air was too musty and the black was too artificial, and the stars showed no variances from all of their neighbors. But Thor had to make do with what he had because there was very little that resembled anything that he had lost.

Sometimes, a small spotlight would showcase a cluster of stars that formed a constellation Thor didn’t know about. Like the two fish that made Pisces, or the man with a belt named Orion. The Northern Lights made an appearance as well, and Thor couldn’t help but imagine his mother when he looked that them. It was so much like her magic that it almost brought tears to his eyes.

The presentation came to a close, and though Tony’s voice and the background music stopped being projected through the speakers, the stars on the dome still remained, spinning lazily in a circular motion. The dim lights helped quell the raging headache Thor had had all day, and he took in a deep breath.

“Are you okay?”

God, Thor was getting really tired of that question.

“I’m fine, Rogers.”

A long pause, then, “It’s not good to bottle up your feelings. I’m not a mental health expert, but I at least know that. Also, it looks like you’re in pain. Do you want F.R.I.D.A.Y to run you a scan?”

“No.”

“Thor, you don’t have to hold up the strong King facade over your face when you’re around us. You can tell us how you’re actually feeling. We care about you.”

“That’s all well and good, Rogers,” Thor said a little icily, “But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not a King anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have no Kingdom. A King is not a King without a Kingdom.”

“But you still have your people. A King is defined by their loyal subjects.”

“Which are currently missing or otherwise dead.”

“Banner is working on finding them, though.”

Thor turned away. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does!” Steve exclaimed softly.

“Not Banner finding them. That’s not what I mean.” Thor turned onto his back again, gesturing towards the electronically formed stars above them. “In the grand scheme of things, in the plotted wake of the universe, my feelings just don’t matter. I’ve always been taught that a King pushes his emotions down for the good of his people, and even without people to rule, I still have to live by that. I still have to honor my family’s rules. Without my family’s culture and tradition, I truly have lost everything.”

Steve chuckled softly, and Thor saw him run a hand through his short hair. “Man, your father really did a number on you, huh? And here we all thought Loki had daddy issues.”

“Don’t laugh at my Brother’s misfortunes,” Thor warned, clenching his fists.

“Relax, Thor. All I mean is that Odin wanted you to act a certain way, and it traumatized you. You are the firstborn son. Unless you died in childhood, you were always going to be groomed to be a King. So, of course, Odin wanted you to push aside your feelings. He didn’t want somebody emotional sitting on the throne, running the nine realms. That’s why Loki wouldn’t’ve worked out well.”

Thor looked at Steve, shooting daggers at him. His hands were still curled into balls, and he could feel little sparks shoot out of his fingers. “My Brother ran Asgard for four years in my absence, and it worked out splendidly.”

“Okay, well, my point is: Odin knew how to be a King. He didn’t know how to be a father, and some of the things he instilled in you are, quite frankly, toxic. It’s not healthy to keep everything inside you. An emotionally stunted King is no good to anyone. Eventually, you’re going to explode. So please, Thor, talk to somebody. Talk to me, talk to Tony or Banner. Or even talk to a brick wall, I don’t care! Just talk to somebody before something bad happens.

“I’m not asking you to lose your tradition or your culture. My ancestors before me did plenty of that long before I was ever born. You’re an Asgardian, and you should be proud of that. But you’re also an Avenger, which means we can’t have you compromising your physical and mental health. By all means, keep the fires of your homeworld alive, but don’t make us suffer for it. That’s not what a King does.”

Thor’s eyes caught sight of one star. It wasn’t any different from the rest; just a white speck in the sea of black nothingness. Sometimes, depending on the angle, it would swoop down and pass through the Northern Lights, but that was the only thing that set it apart from its multitudes of siblings. He followed it around and around a couple dozen times, letting silence soak into his body like a sponge.

What Steve said made sense, of course, it did. The words resounded off of Thor’s bones, boring into his skull as if it was being branded. He couldn’t let his teammates down. He had to stay strong for them, but Thor didn’t see how he could remain strong while having everyone else support his thousands of years of emotional baggage and turmoil. It wasn’t fair of Steve to ask Thor to unload everything bare in front of him. Thor was never like that, never had been except for that tiny sliver of youth where he and Loki were close like they were meant to be.

So he did what he’d never done before. He looked at the Northern Lights and thought of his mother’s precious, proud smile, pushing him to take a leap into unknown territory, and then he told his first truth in weeks.

“I may need some reading glasses.”

The laugh that issued from Steve almost lifted Thor’s spirits.

***

  
Thor had parted ways with Steve after they had left the planetarium, with Steve saying that he may have been asleep for seventy years, but he felt his age catching up to him, and he needed to go to bed. He recommended Thor do the same, and Thor smiled, saying that if he felt even a tiny bit sleepy, he’d retire for the night. Steve clapped his hand on Thor’s bulky shoulders and went to his room. Thor went the other way in search of some other stimulus to keep him occupied. Loki’s presence felt stronger now as if his powers had increased in strength by bathing in the moonlight. Thor’s stomach cramped up as he shuffled down the hall, and he gripped his abdomen in pain and leaning on the wall for support. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d consumed food or drink. Everything was a haze, and his brain was pounding in his head, demanding to break free of its bony prison.

“You know, for someone who always complained about me skipping meals to Mother, you sure are a big, hulking hypocrite.” Loki stood beside Thor has he took a break, breathing heavily. “Should I go and fetch Stormbreaker?”

“Go… away… Loki…” Thor panted as he tried to move slowly across the hall, trying to swat his brother away.

“Yes, see, you know, I actually would, Gods know I loathe being in this dark depressing tin metal can you and your precious friends call a Tower. But the thing is, Thor, and this is the really important part, so do pay close attention: I’m inside your mind. I can’t go away because I am a part of you. My shadow is meant to engross your mind and ensure that you never feel peace again because you don’t deserve it.”

Thor groaned in pain as his abdominal muscles seized up once more, and his knees started to give way as the world spun around him. “I know… that. I don’t care if… you… torment me. I deserve… it. But…” Thor’s voice faded as he collapsed to the ground, his body not able to sustain his unhealthy lifestyle.

“Hey- Thor!” Banner’s voice came like a flood in his ears, washing over him like waves. He saw Loki flicker a couple of times, a nasty grin on his devilish face, before disappearing altogether. “Jesus Christ, what happened to you?” When had Banner appeared? When had Banner hoisted him up to learn on his shoulders? When had Banner become this strong and this warm? Thor tried to voice these questions, but his brain had become disconnected from his vocal cords, and all he could do was shake as sweat poured down his face in exertion, letting Banner support his entire weight.

***

The next conscious thing Thor was aware of was the ground beneath him had morphed into ash again, and he shuddered as he stepped forward.

“Welcome back, Brother. You’ve gone and nearly killed yourself again. Well done. Would you like to know how you’ve managed it this time?” Loki lounged in a throne made of space dust, spinning his old scepter in his hand, and Thor fell to his knees in front of him.

“No. I know. I didn’t-” But Loki interrupted Thor before he managed to finish his sentence.

“Malnutrition, dehydration… That stupid oaf Banner had a saline solution running through you last time, but they just don’t understand Asgardians.”

“Loki, I beg of you, cease this. If you still love me as Nebula says-“

 _“NEBULA LIES!”_ Loki’s thunderous roar shook the ground beneath Thor’s feet, and he watched his brother’s face of silent, dignified fury transmorphed into a hellish landscape of blue and green veins, his eyes becoming red around the edges as the illusion he always wore nearly came apart in his anger. “I loved the Thor who was brave and righteous and true! I loved the Thor who thought of me as an equal! I loved the Thor who would smite his enemies with pure, unadulterated power! But you? You are not the Thor I know. You are not my _Brother_!”

Thor looked up, confusion sweeping across his features. “Loki, what do you mean? I haven’t changed. I’m still me. We’re still Brothers!”

Loki swung his scepter and hit Thor in the cheek, herd enough to send him flying across the dusty planet, his voice low and wrathful as he growled. “My Brother would have killed Thanos with his bare hands.” Thor tried to get up, but Loki kicked him down again. “My Brother would have been there for our people in their hour of need instead of hiding on Earth.” Thor was lying on his chest now, Loki’s scepter digging into his sternum, and Thor screamed in pain. “My brother would not have told me I was the worst, even after all the mistakes I made! You are not my Brother!”

Black spots swam in Thor’s vision, and he wondered how real this dreamscape truly was. The sharp end of the scepter dug into his chest deeper and deeper, and in a last attempt to free himself, he shot a bolt of lighting right at Loki, who flew back as if he were a rag doll, and Thor could pull out the weapon out from his body. He screamed in pain as he did so, and threw the scepter to the side of him.

Thor sat up and panted, putting his hand out to admit defeat to his brother. “I get it. I really do, Loki.”

His brother shook his head, trying to smooth down parts of his electrified hair. “You don’t. I can tell you don’t. If you got it, you would have stabbed Thanos in the head. If you got it, you would’ve put your feelings aside on the ship and struck every enemy in the chest. But you didn’t, so you don’t. You don’t understand how hopeless everyone feels around you, and you don’t understand how much everyone wishes you were dead instead of their loved ones.”

“I wish I was dead, too.”

Loki stared at Thor, and Thor stared back. Loki’s face was furiously grim, but his eyes still shone with that fire that frightened everything in their watchful gaze. “That’s the first truth I think you’ve told in days, Thor, but it isn’t enough. The sun will not shine upon us again. You and I are cursed to lurk in the shadows, a shell of what glorious beings we used to be, all thanks to your idiocy.”

***

The world came back to Thor slowly, like his entire brain was rebooting after yet another brush with death. He was aware of very little, only that his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and his tongue felt like sandpaper against the roof of his mouth. He could feel his heartbeat throb throughout his entire body, and shifted uncomfortably in bed to see if that would ease the feeling, but it did not subside. After a while of making sure he could wiggle all his appendages, he finally opened his eyes.

A granola bar was tossed at him, causing Thor to jump a little in bed.

“Eat,” Banner’s voice commanded. “I don’t care if you’re ‘not hungry’, you’re going to eat this or so help me God I will summon the Hulk and shove it down your throat. And then, you’re going drink a glass of water.” He pointed to a clear cup sitting on the end table.

The minute Thor opened the packaging and took a little bite, Banner collapsed in a chair beside his bed, hands in his hair, shaking his head. “Do you know how stupid you are? I found you in the hallway three floors down, spasming because your body couldn’t take another hour of exertion running on five days with no food or water.”

The pang in his heart grew to an exuberant amount, nearly taking up all the room in his chest cavity. The granola bar was an unhelpful weight in his stomach. “Banner…”

“Don’t talk. Just eat. I don’t want any excuses.” Banner finally met his eyes. “You passed out, and I had to call Tony to help me move you to the sickbay. Just because you lost your people and your Brother does not give you the right to behave like a wayward, mopey teenager. You don’t get to treat your body like this and then expect us to pick up the pieces every time.” A wave of guilt washed over Thor. Out of all the people in the tower, he’d wanted Tony to not see him at his weakest moments. Tony had already lost so much, and Thor couldn’t imagine the look on his face when he saw one of his only remaining friends unconscious. He took another bite of the bar.

“I realize that this is probably partially my fault as well. I should have watched you more closely and made sure you were getting some sustenance besides just some lousy pop tart. Speaking of which, I’m absolutely going to murder that Raccoon.”

“Rabbit,” Thor corrected, mouth half full of granola. Banner’s face was the epitome of confusion, so Thor swallowed and started again. “His name is Rabbit because he is a rabbit.”

“What are you…?” Banner shook his head, scratching his scalp. “Okay I know that this is the least of our problems, but it’s very important to me that you know that his actual name is Rocket, and that he is a genetically modified Raccoon. Not a rabbit. Please tell me you knew that.”

Thor shook his head as his finished the granola bar and was given the glass of water, which he greedy finished in about ten seconds.

“Whoa, easy there. Your body isn’t used to this much nutrients. Try and slow down. Do you want anything else?”

_Loki’s love and acceptance_

“No, I think I’m good.”

“Please don’t lie, Thor. After all we’ve been through, it would be like a stab to the heart to find out you needed something I could give, but you were lying to me.”

Thor offered up a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and put his hand on Banner’s shoulder. “Banner, my dear friend, when have I ever lied to you?”

Banner’s eyes squinted as he brushed off Thor’s hand. “Literally all day yesterday.” He sighed, standing up. “Oh, there is one more thing I want to ask before I leave. When you were collapsed, you were mumbling something. It might’ve been in Asgardian, or just gibberish, but it sounded like you were talking to someone. Were you?”

At this point, Thor knew he had come to a crossroads. On the right was salvation, telling Banner everything that happened to him since Loki’s death, up to and including his torment of his own mind. He could come clean with all the weighted guilt that had been pressing down on his chest and maybe become free of the chains that bound him to hell. He could get help by all his friends and move forward with his life. On the left was damnation, where Thor could lie about his true feelings and forgo his emotions for just going through the motions. He could bypass the hours of therapy he’d have to sit through, therapy that might not even work, and there would be facing all the people he had wronged.

_You don’t understand how hopeless everyone feels around you, and you don’t understand how much everyone wishes you were dead instead of their loved ones._

_The sun will not shine upon us again._

“I don’t remember. I was probably hallucinating because of how hungry I was.”

Banner nodded, face stoic as he went towards the door. “Just… Please get better. I nearly lost it, thinking I had lost you. I’m always here if you need to talk, Thor, and I’m not gonna judge you in any capacity. I lost that right when I became the Hulk. So, uh, yeah…” He grabbed the back of his neck and motioned to the end table. “There’s granola bars and water bottles in the top shelf. Eat and drink one every hour.”

Before Banner exited the room, Thor called out his name, and the man stopped. “Thank… Thank you. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the pain I caused.”

“So long as you actively try and get better, it’s all okay.”

Thor did not deserve the soft, sweet smile of forgiveness that Banner bestowed upon him. He would much rather have Loki’s scepter piercing his sternum, because that hurt far less.

As with last night, Thor found himself drawn to the window. It was dark, the black cloak of night concealing the dawning of a new day. Building shone and twinkled like the constellations in the planetarium, but it brought Thor nothing to fill the aching gap in his chest. He was disappointed in himself, because he did everything he thought would help him heal, and he still wasn’t fixed. He thought that seeing all of the surviving Avengers might help him realize that he was not alone, but it did something far worse; it reminded Thor that he was the cause of all their anguish, of their lost loved ones.

He thought that reading about his culture through the eyes of outsiders would aid him in accepting the deaths of everyone he’d ever loved, but Thor realized that it did nothing of the sort. Nebula tore open his still-bleeding heart with her stories of Loki, dropping it onto the floor and crushing it underneath her foot. Going with Steve to the planetarium was supposed to provide some ancient wisdom and relief to get Thor to realize he was more than just what Odin decreed him to be, but all Thor could comprehend from those short hours was how selfish he was, how unwilling he was to let go of his past.

Without Loki by his side, Thor could never move forward. He would always be stuck eternally in limbo, between wanting to become the King and the man everyone knew he could be, and longing to go back before any of this had happened, before he knew of Tony Stark and Steve Rogers and the strange customs they had on Earth, ignorant and arrogant, but loved.

In the end, Thor supposed he would always side with whatever his brother said. Loki knew Thor better than Thor knew himself, so to him it just made sense to follow Loki blindly. Loki had always been a better King, a better diplomat, and a better scholar. Thor may have been wise, but Loki was a learned sage, able to talk circles around Thor’s minuscule advice. He looked at the clock and thanked Stark for getting a state of the art one. It was currently 5:10 in the morning, and below the time it read that the sunrise would commence in about fifteen minutes. Thor opened the drawer and grabbed a granola bar and a bottle of water before getting out of bed and quietly going down the hall. After going on the elevator and pressing the roof button, he stepped out into the night air.

Stark Tower was a high enough building that the heat from the blistering city below hardly affected it. As Thor opened up the granola bar and ate it quickly, he shivered as the wind whipped around him, it howled in his ears like a melancholy tune. The whirr of the multiple air condition systems beat rhythmically like drums. Thor noticed Loki lurking on one of them.

“As always, Loki, you were right.” Thor spread his arms apart as wide as they would go. His voice didn’t carry much in the roaring wind, but that hardly mattered.

“I usually am; you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“All this torment you’ve caused me? I deserve it. We both know I killed half the universe. Every death is on me, and there is nothing I can do to atone for my sins. The sun won’t shine on us again, it can’t, because I’m here, alive, and you’re in Valhalla, waltzing with Mother and feasting on all the food you were always denied by Father.”

“What makes you think I’m in Valhalla? It’s very bold of you to assume that a murderer and a trickster like me ended up in the most glorious of the nine realms. It’s bold of you to assume that I get to see Mother.”

“Because you are good, Loki, and you murdered those people under Thanos’ control. They’re his lives he must atone for when he dies, not yours. There was never a doubt in my mind that when you died you would end up in Valhalla. But I had hoped we would go together, or at the very least I would die before you.”

“I always thought that as well. But mainly because you were a haughty, egotistical, reckless warrior who went headfirst into battle with hardly any armor.”

Thor let the corner of his lips curve upward in the smallest fashion before letting his entire face fall into depression. “At any rate, you’ve finally worn me down. If I can’t see you as you truly are in this life, and if the sun won’t shine on us in this world, then my only option is to join you in the next.”

The look of general surprise on Loki’s face could not be mistaken, but it soon transformed into mockery as he laughed. “Suicide? Thor, really, do you think you have the nerve to jump off this building?”

“I can do anything if it means we can reunite again, Brother.”

“You wouldn’t see our people again. You wouldn’t see your friends again. Think about what you’re doing!”

Thor turned from the air conditioning units and towards the end of the roof, taking a step. “I am.”

 _“THOR!”_ Loki screamed in desperation, but Thor just kept walking, ignoring his brother. With every step, his footfalls became lighter, his soul fluttering in his chest. He held his head up high as his mother taught him to do while walking throughout the palace. If the last royal Asgardian was going to take his own life, he would emulate all the highborn status he could muster.

He stepped up onto the ledge, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath in. Even from high up, he could smell the grease and the tar of the city below, and he wondered if humans ever got used to that smell. Thor wondered what his bones would sound like as they smacked on the pavement, if they would be a final resounding boom in his thunderous life. The wind dashed around him, causing his entire body to sway.

“The sun will shine on us again, I assure you.”

Thor let himself fall.

The wind whistled in his ears, and he could distantly hear glass breaking, but he kept his eyes closed against he stinging coldness. He was ready. He was finally ready to see Loki again, to see Lady Sif and his Mother. He was ready to hang up his duties both as a King of Asgard and as an Avenger. In life, he had thousands of regrets. In Valhalla, he could forget all who he had wronged and live his life in peace. However, something caught him during his plight, and Thor finally opened his eyes. Tony was in his suit of iron, blasting back up to the rooftop with Thor in his arms. He watched as the pavement receded below him, how the parking meters disintegrated in the blackness of night, how the streetlamp got smaller and smaller until finally, they reached the roof again.

Tony threw him off of his shoulder none too gently, and Thor gasped for air when he made contact with the ground, eyes stinging and body tingling from free falling.

“So I _know_ that what just happened didn’t happen.” Tony seethed as his entire suit retracted, and the man stepped out. “Am I correct? I didn’t just watch one of my friends try and _plummet to his death_?”

Even Hela could not strike fear into Thor’s heart like Tony could at this very moment. His face was scorched in anger, cheeks burning red with indigent fury, while his eyes were smoldering rocks of hostility. The veins in his neck popped out, and he was breathing heavily, though Thor suspected it was more due to rage than exertion. When he didn’t answer, Tony rolled his eyes.

“Alright, fuck it. F.R.I.D.A.Y, call Banner. Get him up here.”

“Yessir,” The voice inside the suit responded.

“Stark-“

“Nope,” Tony pointed a finger at him. “You don’t get to talk. You lost that right the minute you collapsed in the hallway. I don’t want to hear another goddamn sound out of you.” Thor stayed silent, trying to catch his breath and control his fast-beating heart. “I’ve lost so many people in the last week. I’m not going to lose you too. Do you understand me?” Tony crouched beside Thor, their noses almost touching. Thor could feel the anger radiating off of Tony. “ _I am not going to lose you too_.” They stayed in that position, Thor too afraid to do anything but breathe, Tony’s lips quivering in his lividness. He only stood up when Banner arrived.

“Tony, it’s five-thirty in the morning. I just got done dealing with Thor, I need sleep.”

“Pretty shit at your job, then, Banner, because I j _ust caught him trying to jump off the roof_.”

“You _what_?”

“Yeah, I was running some tests in the lab, and I just see this flash of gold and brown zoom down the window. This moron jumped off the roof! I almost didn’t catch him after I got on the suit and smashed through the window.” Tony pointed at Thor again, narrowing his eyes. “You owe me a new fucking window, Lightning Mcgee.”

The next thing Thor knew, Banner was kneeling beside Thor, checking his arms and face, muttering to himself. Tony had started to pace at this point, arms crossed, lips pulled into a deep frown. Thor didn’t want to speak, he didn’t want to incur Tony’s wrath again, so he caught Banner’s eyes, trying to communicate something, anything. He didn’t know how to even begin, where to start. He was so lost.

Banner pulled him unexpectedly into a tight hug, crushing Thor’s chest to his. “It’s okay. We’re here. We’ve got you, Thor, all of us. We’re not going to fail you again.”

“But I’ve…” Thor took in a shuddering breath, shutting his eyes tight as tears pricked them. “I’ve failed you.”

Thor heard the sound of metal clanking before a cold hand of armor was on his shoulder. “The only way you could have failed any of us is if you stuck that landing.” Tony’s tone of voice was surprisingly soft compared to just moments before, and Thor buried his face into Banner’s shoulder as he was rocked side to side, being shushed even though he hadn’t said anything in response. He felt tony come around to Thor’s other side to hug his backside, both of them enveloping him in strength and reassurance.

It felt like centuries before any of them let go, but when Thor finally peeled his face away from Banner’s shoulder, he was greeted by the sight of his first sunrise in New York City. Pale gold shined beneath the buildings as the sun peeked through the horizon, which shifted into the lightest of greys. Most of the sky was a dark navy blue, but Thor just looked at the yellowing of the skyline, wind running through his hair, whispering promises to his broken ears. Thor still felt broken, even though his heart yearned to leap into a new day, a new dawn. He took another shuddering breath.

“I’m sorry for not killing Thanos when I had the chance.” His voice was clear-cut and true; there was no way for Tony or Banner to mistake what he had said.

“It’s not your fault. We all made mistakes that day.” Tony reassured.

“We’re all still here. That’s all that matters.” Banner replied. “You did the best that you could with the things that you had. No one blames you for that.”

“But I could have done so much better!” Thor lamented, pressing his hands to his eyes until green spots invaded his vision. “I didn’t aim for the head! Why didn’t I aim for the head?!” He screamed in anguish, lightning crackling from his massively powerful body. “None of you made the mistakes I did! None of you killed half the universe!”

Banner cleared his throat, and Thor watched him as he stared at the sunrise. “None of us came close to stabbing him. You were the only one powerful enough to even stand up to Thanos. You’re not a murderer, Thor, you’re a hero. All those people down there, getting ready for work, going to school and making their lives worth something? They all have you to thank. They’re alive because you were brave enough to take a stand when the rest of us just stood there and watched.”

“Your spider-boy… Stark… because of me….”

“Peter knew the consequences of coming with me to Titan,” Tony said simply, his tone of voice suggesting there was no other way of interpreting his words. “He was my responsibility, not yours. His blood is on my hands, not yours. If there is any guilty party involving Peter, it’s me. I’ve never blamed you for your actions that day. We all did what we needed to do, and that’s the end of it. You’re not at fault for any of the deaths of our loved ones, Thanos is.”

“Rabbi-“ Thor stopped in his tracks and backpedaled, remembering what Banner had told him. “Rocket, sorry. Rocket blames me for the death of his family.”

“Rocket is a tiny rodent with no home to call his own. If he bothers you again I will not hesitate to remind him of that. He does not get the right to criticize you.” Tony snarled.

“I don’t have a home, either. It was destroyed.”

Banner sighed, shaking his head. “I really wish you would realize that this is your home. I know you’re grieving Asgard and her people, and you have every right to grieve at your own pace, but Stark tower is your home now. The Avengers are your family. It’s not the same. I know that. I get that, but when life gives you lemons, you know?”

Thor stared blankly ahead. “I don’t understand that saying.”

“What’s up with these aliens not knowing simple Earthen sayings? Honestly.” Tony said, sharing a look with Banner before turning back to Thor. “Basically, it’s a saying for ‘make do with what you have’. You can’t control the pack of cards you’re dealt, but you can rearrange them in a way that works best for you.”

“Oh,” said Thor. “That’s a stupid Earth saying.”

“You’re a stupid Earth saying,” grumbled Tony, and Banner reached across Thor to slap him playfully.

“Be nice, Tony.”

“If I ever find my people, what will happen?” Thor asked. “I don’t know if any of them are even still alive, but if I find them, what will I do? Where will they go?”

“I can always add on to Stark Tower.” Supplied Tony. “Make it like an apartment complex. It’s basically one right now, what’s a few hundred more people?”

Thor laughed graciously. “You’re too kind, Stark. I wouldn’t know how to repay you.”

“Just promise me you’re not going to jump off of towers any time soon and we’ll call it even.” Tony held out a hand and Thor took it as they shook.

“Deal.”

The three men dissolved into comfortable, peaceful silence as they watched the sunrise bloom over the New York horizon. Thor put his hands in his lap, closing his eyes and sighing as he felt a warmth wash over him. Nothing was going to be the same. Everything changed too much all at once and sometimes it was going to be overwhelming. Thor knew that he would wake up somedays to no sunrise, when the entire day was cloudy and gloomy, and he couldn’t help connect the grayness of the skies that day to the color of the ashen rocks that had been his planet. There would be days where he would butter toast and the knife in his hand would, just for a moment, look like the ones Loki loved to hold. There would be days where Thor wouldn’t want to get up and do anything. He knew this. He was fine with this.

If all of his friends - Banner, Stark, Steve, Nebula, and Rocket - were all going to help him through those days when the universe felt like too much of a burden, though, Thor knew that he could power through them. He wasn’t alone, and he knew that now. He resented himself only for one thing, and that was not realizing his friends were there, not judging and not daunting, to help him through the thickest parts of Thor’s unhappiness.

The sun had risen fully in the sky before Thor had wanted to get up. Tony and Banner had stayed with him the entire time, not trying to talk to him or offer a comforting touch, just sat there on the roof with Thor until he thought he was stable enough to stand up and leave the past behind him. His friends were right there beside him, and as they headed back to the door that led to the inside, Thor’s stomach rumbled.

“Tony, you should go get us some donuts.” Banner provided helpfully, saving Thor embarrassment,  a smile on his sleepless face. “And coffee,” He thoughtfully added. “Lots of black coffee. Because some of us haven’t slept in days.”

“Those some of you should not drink coffee but maybe actually sleep?” Thor interrupted.

“Yeah, Mr. I’m-Not-Going-To-Sleep-For-Two-Days. We’ll get right on that.” Tony replied as his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head.

“Actually I did sleep for about fifteen minutes during those two days! You can ask Nebula, she can attest to my nap in the library.”

“Fifteen minutes is nothing, Thunder Boy. You’re just as bad as us, if not worse.”

Bruce interjected before Thor could get another word out, putting up his hands in both Thor and Tony’s faces. “Enough. Tony, please? We could all use some breakfast, and none of us are really up to making it. Just go.”

“Fine, yeah. Any requests?”

“Do they have those squishy ones with the jelly inside of them? And the maple frosted ones? Oh! And the powdered sugar ones!”

Tony looked at him incredulously. “Uh, yeah. Pretty sure every donut chain in the world has those. They’re not that hard to find. What do you think Banner, two dozen?”

Banner thought for a minute, looking from Thor to Tony, and counted on his fingers multiple times. “Make it four.”

“Four?!”

“We’re housing multiple alien species, Tony.” Bruce stared at him with a deadpan look on his face. “Come on, man. You honestly don’t think they’d each only be able to stomach three and call that being full. Don’t you remember when we all had shawarma after the Battle of New York? Thor alone nearly ate the entire restaurant out of business.”

“The other two are coming out of your pocket, Banner,” Tony said darkly, and started to walk to the edge of the roof, suit already fully on by the time he reached the edge and jumped, flying off.

Banner rolled his eyes and turned to Thor. “You’d think that with all the money he has, four dozen donuts wouldn’t be such a big deal.” Thor shrugged in agreement.

“There are some things about mortals, Banner, that I just will never understand. One of them is not buying enough donuts.” The laugh that issued from Banner placed a small smile on Thor’s face as they walked down the stairs together.

***

Thor was already on his seventeenth donut - a powdered sugar one - when Rocket padded into the kitchen. He looked like he had before, fur a mess, eyes a hellish mudslide, but his tail and ears were down and flattened, his gaze towards the floor as he jumped up in the seat across from Thor.

He wrung his hands a little bit as Thor swallowed the last bite, offering the nearly empty box to his friend, who shook his head. “Not hungry.”

Thor handed Rocket a plain cake donut. Natasha had eaten most of those, but he didn’t get the appeal. They didn’t taste like anything. “Please eat, dear friend. I’ve lost so much. I don’t want to lose you too.” With a sigh, Rocket took the breakfast item, gnawing on the soft dough with his sharp canines.

“This tastes like Quill’s ass.” He remarked, and Thor boisterously erupted into laughter.

“I’ll take your word for it!”

Rocket finished the donut before speaking again. “Anyways, I came to uh, apologize. I didn’t know that you were having a hard time like everyone else, and it was hard for me to see past my rage. I shouldn’t have said it was your fault. I just needed somebody to blame that I could see, instead of somebody who was thousands of lightyears away. So… yeah… Sorry.”

The sunlight streamed from the windows from their left sides, warming Thor with kindness he hadn’t felt in so long. He smiled softly at Rocket, who never looked up from the ground. “I understand. Long ago, I was full of anger just like you. I took it out on Loki and all of my friends. But they handled it magnificently, and so shall I, because friends don’t stop being friends just because one of them is grieving. I, too, thought that the death of your family was my fault. I realize now everything is because of Thanos. It took me a long time to accept it. I nearly killed myself over the voices in my head. But I know now that I did everything I could. You did too. So did everyone you loved.”

“So are we good? Do I have to keep making myself look like a weak rodent?”

Thor scratched his head. “You’re not weak, Rocket. But, yes, we’re good. I hold no ill will towards you. As it happens, I’d like to give you something.” He stood up and Rocket hopped down from his seat. “Follow me.”

The pair went down the hallway and down two flights of stairs. “I asked Steve during breakfast if he knew where Stormbreaker was. Apparently Tony locked all of our weapons up when we arrived here because he didn’t want fights to break out amongst ourselves, but I could have always come and got it.”

“That’s nice,” Rocket dully said.

The doors to the armory opened up by sensors on the floor, and Thor whistled as the entered. Hundreds of gleaming silver blades hung on the walls, accented by bullets of different eras. Though much less historic and antique, there was no doubt in Thor’s mind that Tony’s stockade of weapons would put Asgard’s to shame. He easily found Stormbreaker laying on a glass table, and when it was placed in his hands hummed with easy, distant energy. It was different from his hammer, which sung an old tune and flowed the energy like a steady stream of water. Though Stormbreaker was made from the same star, it was more unpredictable, equivalent to a child’s energy, and Thor smiled softly before breaking the branch off from the ax and handing it to Rocket.

“What? I thought you said-“

“I know what I said.” Thor interrupted. “I thought you were too angry to have Stormbreaker. I still stand by that. But what I should have known is that all you wanted was the wood, and that was my mistake. If there was a way I could bring back Loki, I would want to make it possible by any means necessary. If all it takes to bring back Groot is the hilt of my ax, I can’t, in good conscious, say no.”

Rocket grumbled something before slightly bowing his head, and Thor beamed as he set the head of ax back down on the table; He didn’t ask Rocket to repeat what he had said, because Loki had done the same thing thousands of times over thousands of years. It was their way of saying Thank You to Thor, when they both felt unqualified to receive such a generous gift from such a generous man. Neither of them had been exposed to much kindness in the lives, and Thor was fine if their thanks were never outwardly or clearly expressed. A good King would do the right thing for his people, expecting no reward or gratitude in return. A great King, however, would understand his subject’s body language and mannerisms to see appreciation written on every cell in their skeleton.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Thor turned away from Rocket and fished something out from his pocket, fumbling around his face for a while before turning around.

In Thor’s right hand lay the eyeball that Rocket had given him on the way to get Stormbreaker. It whizzed around on his palm, nearly rolling off before Thor caught it again. His left eye was covered in the eyepatch he’d worn from before, and his heart felt whole again. Thor took Rocket’s paw and pressed the eyeball into it, closing the tiny claws around the sphere to keep it from moving to the floor.

“I want to give this fake eye back to you,” Thor said, smiling softly. Rocket made a sound somewhere between surprise and confusion.

“W-What!? Why?! You’re almost as much an idiot as Quill!” Rocket tried to give Thor back the eyeball, but Thor shook his head and rejected the offer. He didn’t need it anymore. The blackness of his left eye was the thing that grounded him, pulled him back to the present. The day he had spent wandering around Stark tower, searching for something to sew him up again, make him anew, had always been in his pocket. It had always been the eyepatch, a signifier of darkness and loss to most, meaning the complete opposite to Thor. Losing an eye reminded him that there was hope where everything seemed bleakest. Losing an eye did not blind Thor from what was right in front of the entire time. Having Rocket’s artificial eye did. It kept Thor from seeing that he still had love in his corner, that his support system had never left, just the key players that changed.

“I don’t want to wear it anymore,” Thor confessed. “My Brother said that my eyepatch suits me. You said you wanted to bring Groot back. Well… I want to bring Loki back. I can’t do it like you can, I can only honor his memory, and if he likes me with one eye missing, then that is how I will live the rest of my life.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do with it, then?!”

Thor scratched his jaw for a couple of seconds as he thought about Rocket’s question, his face caught in deep introspection as silence overtook them. But as quickly as his smile had faded, it was painted back on as light twinkled in Thor’s remaining eye once more. “Let’s put it in Steve’s coffee!”

***

The night spread upon New York quicker than Thor had expected. After nearly killing Steve via heart attack with the eyeball in the coffee, he had spent the remaining daylight hours with Nebula. She sat alone in her room when Thor had come to visit her, a cup of coffee and the last donut from breakfast. After coaxing her to take a few bites of food and a few sips of the hot drink, Thor felt better, and he hoped Nebula did too.

In the few moments they talked yesterday, he’d felt a connection with her as if Nebula was the actual sister he’d been missing his entire life. She was spunky and confident in everything she did, and Thor would have liked to think he’d at least started to chip at her walls of distrust towards everybody. He could tell in her black eyes that she was hurting just as much as he was in the murdered sibling category, so Thor took it upon himself to act like the big brother he should have always been to Loki. Nebula was a gift from Valhalla, a way for Thor to right his wrongs of his childhood.

Today he spent on Nebula’s bed with her, both above the covers, trying to figure out how to work the television in her room. After about an hour an a half of bickering between themselves, Nebula smacked the top of the television, and a crystal clear picture showed in front of them, which Thor found helpful, as his last resort was going to be shock it with lightning.

So they sat there, binging trash tv, only pausing for Thor to order pizza and bring it back up to their room after Nebula told him she’d never even heard of it. The three large pizzas were gone within an hour, and Thor was surprised when Nebula ate more than he had. However, she listened intently while Thor explained mortal, human things that Nebula couldn’t quite get her mind around.

“Why don’t they just use hovercrafts to get around? These giant dogs are infuriatingly slow.”

“No, those are horses. Dogs are too small to ride, even the big ones.” Thor explained, watching gruff men in a dusty town hop off their horses and draw guns as they shot at each other. “Also, I believe this is a primitive time in human history when they did not possess much technology other than the wheel.”

“What idiots. No wonder they haven’t found any other life on planets.” Nebula scowled, and Thor nodded in agreement. “Did they really record this right when it happened? They didn’t hire entertainers and build sets?”

“Yeah, I’m positive this was all made in real time,” Thor answered, and Nebula hummed in amazement and sat against the headboard, while Thor remained invested as a shootout happened between the entire town.

Eventually, Nebula had fallen asleep, and that was when Thor looked outside and noticed it was nighttime. Even though he still wanted to watch this thing humans called a ‘western’, he knew he should get some sleep of his own. So he turned off the television and took the throw blanket from the bottom of the bed to cover Nebula with it, running his hand over her bald head softly, so as not to wake her.

“Sleep well and pleasant dreams, Sister.” He whispered, sending out a prayer to Valhalla that she, at least for a few hours, would know nothing but peace, and headed out to his own room.

***

Unlike all the times before him, Thor felt comfort as he drifted off towards sleep. When he opened his eyes again, no longer was he on an ashen planet, quaking with the rage of his deceased brother, now he was on a planet with closely shaven green grass, beautiful astrids blooming in little pockets here and there, while the air smelled like his palace grounds. Loki stood in front of Thor, hands behind his back. The bruises were still on his neck, but he looked alive and well minus that, and despite the happiness that Thor felt firing up his heart, despite wanting nothing more than to hold his brother in a friendly, familial embrace again, he refrained.

“You look better,” He pointed out, voice lacking emotion.

“As do you, Brother. Love what you’ve done with your eye.” Loki returned the favor.

“Oh, we’re doing ‘Brother’ now, are we?” Thor turned on his heel, bending down to pluck a flower from the ground. “I thought that I wasn’t your bother anymore. Or, at the very least, not the right version of him.”

Loki sighed, pinching his nose. “Are you really going to do this, Thor? Now? I thought our petty battles were done. Let’s just visit and chat in peace.”

Thor twirled the astrid between his fingers, noticing how small it looked between his large digits. “You only want to be done talking about our arguments when you know you’re going to lose, Loki. It’s always been that way.” He sighed, shoving the flower in his pocket and turning to his brother. “But you’re right. I’m also done fighting. I came here to make amends.”  
“Oh?”

“You died at Thanos’ hands, and I did little to nothing to ease your suffering or stop your death altogether. That is the only thing that I will forever regret. I suppose I will regret everything else as well, such as going to get Stormbreaker and nearly killing myself in the process, or not aiming for Thanos’ head. I will regret those things, but I know they weren’t my fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault, so I can’t be sorry for that. But I can be sorry about what I didn’t do to you, my only Brother. I am sorry I did not call forth a lightning bolt to separate you and Thanos. I am sorry I did not protect you as I should have. But I’m trying to make amends now. I’m trying to live how I think you would want me to live and how you would want me to honor your memory.”

“Which is why…?”

“Which is why I gave Rocket back the eye. I want to remember you. I do not have a strand of your hair, but I have the eyepatch you liked, so I suppose that’s the next best thing. It’s also why I gave the hilt of Stormbreaker to Rocket, so he could at least have his family member.”

Loki scoffed, a small smirk on his face. “I probably would not have done that.”

Thor smiled in return. “No, probably not, but your shadow falls across me, and it doesn’t go away, so sometimes I have to do things the way I know them to be right.”

“My shadow?”

“Loki, there is no me without you, and there is no you without me. The moment you died, as did I. You cannot have the God of Thunder without the God of Mischief, and it works the other way around. Your soul traveled to Valhalla, yes, but your shadow will forever loom over mine, tugging at it and taking piece by piece until I will be a shell of what I was, what I already had been.”

Loki remained silent, staring at Thor. He looked like the small, frightening thing he’d been when they were children, too afraid to stand up for himself just yet, too scared of confrontation. Very softly, almost so Thor couldn’t hear it, Loki said the words: “I did not mean to cause you harm.”

“I know, Loki, my Brother. I know. I know you like the back of my hand.”

“I only wanted-“

“-to unlock my full potential and realize I have everything I need in front of me. As usual.”

“I didn’t mean it when I-“

“-said the sun wouldn’t shine on us again.” Thor walked forward and grasped Loki, pulling him into a brotherly hug, trying to stop him from hurting any further. “Yes, you idiot, I know. I know everything that you have meant and didn’t mean. You don’t need to explain yourself.”

“Thor-“

“Loki, please, shut up. I can’t believe I’m going to say this but for once, you have nothing to apologize for. You were just being my shadow, my Brother, and no fault lies with you.”

Finally, he stopped talking, and Thor could just stand there, frozen in time, embracing Loki as an equal like they should have done back on Asgard’s ship, carrying both their hearts with them, forever entwined, until he could, at the end of his long, arduous, heroic life, give both their hearts to Loki when he embraced death and entered Valhalla.

But until then, Thor was content in this moment, suspended forever.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to becca for reading this and telling me what worked and what didn't and how to write tony correctly.  
> thanks to my manic depression for literally not letting me get sleep for a week straight until i finished this.  
> thanks to my aunt for not having wifi so i have nothing to do BUT finish this  
> and thanks to you, for reading this and leaving comments & kudos. ya'll're the real mvps.


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